we had a beautiful love affair
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: It used to be easy; now it's only easy when she closes her eyes. Sloan/Don; essentially a future-fic AU. One-shot.


A/N: This started out as a writing exercise and then Taylor Swift happened and this was born. It's angsty; it's based on the idea that Don and Sloan tried a relationship and it didn't work.

Disclaimer: I only own Maddie.

* * *

It used to be as easy as breathing.

It used to feel natural, feel right, feel like _them_. When she closes her eyes she can remember the warm feeling of happiness lining her stomach and the flush of attraction over her skin; she can see him smile at her from across the newsroom and feel of his hands on her skin later in bed.

But only when she closes her eyes.

Her breath hitched in her chest and she glanced down at the paperwork on the table in front of her; the words are big and black and bold and final. A simple signature, and she can write away six years of her life. Six Christmases, six Thanksgivings, six anniversaries, and two thousand one hundred and ninety days.

All with the flick of her wrist.

"Mommy?"

The sound of pattering footsteps and the quiet entreaty are almost her undoing; she closed her eyes and tilted her head backwards, swallowing down the tears that threaten to overflow before turning in her chair. The little girl in the doorway is hesitant; she clutched her stuffed rabbit closer to her chest, and all Sloan can see is Don giving the stuffed animal to their daughter when she was born.

It ripped her heart apart all over again.

"Mommy, is Daddy coming home?" Maddie asked, voice soft as she lingered in the doorway, and Sloan's teeth sank into her lip as she dropped her gaze to the paperwork sitting on the table again. "I miss him."

"I miss him too sweetie," Sloan murmured, and the truth of her words hit her like a freight train. Because god did she miss him. She missed the sound of his breathing, the smell of his aftershave, the feel of his hand in hers. She missed the way he put Maddie to bed, and the way he took her in theirs. She missed everything about him.

She didn't know if he missed her.

Maddie inched her way over to her mother, tugging on her hand gently; Sloan pulled the five year old into her lap, kissing her dark hair and pressing her forehead against her daughter's temple. She smelled like crayons and chocolate chip cookies; she smelled like little girl's should, and for some reason the tears welled up again when she realized Maddie was it. Maddie was all she had left now.

Her parents were dead, her husband was divorcing her, and she'd put in her letter of resignation at ACN a week ago. Her daughter was the only thing keeping her sane, and she stifled the sob the thought that elicited. Mackenzie was too busy dealing with the fact that Will was getting married to a supermodel, and Maggie and Jim were too busy with their own kids to be the support she needed.

She'd lost Don, and along with him, she'd lost everyone else.

There was a knock on the door and Sloan stiffened, knowing who it was. She took a deep breath, lowering Maddie to the ground, standing and grasping her hand. They walk together, and when they open the door, Don is standing there, hands in his pockets, flannel shirt on- just like always.

She invites him inside and Maddie latches onto him instantly; Sloan leaves them in the living room because it hurts too much to watch. Signing her name on those papers means ruining that little girl's life, and she doesn't know how to do this.

She doesn't know how to _be_ without him.

It used to be simple; as easy as breathing.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Repeat.

But now it was like there was a break in the rhythm; they were out of step, out of alignment, and she could feel the chasm in her chest widen with each inhalation without him. She squeezes her eyes shut and grips the counter with both hands, arching her back slightly and trying to push the pain out of her chest; maybe if she can just loosen it a little it will fall out of place and she'll be able to just breathe again, even if just for a moment, a single tiny, individual moment, if only-

"Sloan? What's wrong?"

It's the first time he's sounded concerned about her in a year, and it only makes the pain intensify and the tears to slide down her cheeks. Her breathing hitches and it's an evident sob, and then his hand is on her shoulder and _god_ it's like she can breathe for those few milliseconds; really, truly breathe.

It only makes the pain in her chest intensify tenfold.

He brought her into his chest and he smelled just like always and she cried harder; this is what goodbye felt like, and she hated herself.

"I don't want to let you go," she admits in a whisper, and feels him swallow.

"I'm sorry," he says into her hair, holding her closer for a few more seconds. "God I'm so sorry Sloan. But I can't."

He watches her while she signs, then gently kisses her forehead and goes out to say goodbye to Maddie; they'll work out arrangements later. She doesn't watch him walk away; she can feel the shape of the hole in her heart.

It's in the shape of him.


End file.
